


Take My Hand

by cyclogenesis (addictedkitten)



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: M/M, Multi, Tour Bus, Unsafe Sex, Where We Are Tour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 11:06:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3485921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addictedkitten/pseuds/cyclogenesis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Michael finds Luke, and then they all find each other. Also, hand-holding is the new cuddling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take My Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much to the lovely [Tara](http://hotdamn5sos.tumblr.com) for the commission! As usual, the marvelous [Nina](http://archiveofourown.org/users/loafers/pseuds/loafers) looked this over for me, thank you.

Michael finds Luke lying on his back on the warm grass outside the stadium. His phone is on his belly, the screen periodically awakening with notifications and then quieting back to black as he ignores them. His eyes are closed and he’s stuck six or seven tiny daisies in his quiff. 

Michael nudges the toe of his boot into Luke’s side. “What are you doing? Everyone’s looking for you.”

“Photosynthesizing,” Luke says. He deigns to crack an eye open and squint up at Michael. “What does everyone want?” He reaches out a hand, grabbing Michael’s ankle like he means to pull him down but instead he just squeezes gently and pats the top of Michael’s boot like a hello. 

“Nerd,” Michael says. He resists the urge to step on Luke’s fingers like Luke deserves for being an ankle-cuddling science geek and sits down next to him instead. “You’d know if you checked your phone instead of ignoring everybody.” The grass is soft and thick under his fingers, spattered with more of the daisies that Luke sacrificed for his soft grunge hair statement. He shifts awkwardly on it. Grass has never really been his thing. Why sit on grass when there are more comfortable places to sit indoors, like couches or carpet? Far less chance of encountering bugs that way, or sunshine. 

“I needed some air.” Luke sighs. He digs his fingers into the grass and levers himself up to a sitting position. The daisies fall out of his hair and into his lap. In the harsh sunlight he looks tired, pale under the light pink of a few minutes’ sunburn dusting his cheeks. Michael looks away from him. “I figured someone would come find me if they really needed me.”

“If you weren’t eaten by a pack of roving fangirls first,” Michael points out. “Or a bug.” He gestures to the expanse of grass around them, the trees and hills in the distance. “Seriously, this is so much nature. There must be a million bugs out here.”

“Stop talking about bugs,” Luke says, wrinkling his nose at Michael. He stares down at his phone, scrolling through his texts. “Nobody texted me about coming back. Who wanted me?”

Michael lifts a shoulder, barely a shrug. It would sound stupid now if he said he’d been worried when Luke wasn’t around, that nobody knew where he’d gone. It’s dangerous outside and there are a lot of people that want to crowd around and touch them sometimes. Luke could wander up into the hills, he could climb a tree and get stuck. He could just disappear. “Nobody wants you,” Michael says, plucking a daisy and throwing it at him. “You’re too weird.” 

Luke takes the daisy that landed on his knee and plants it back in his quiff. “Let’s go back inside, I’ve had enough air.”

“I’m glad someone else finally understands that you can get too much fresh air,” Michael tells him, standing up and holding out a hand for Luke to grab. Luke hesitates just long enough for Michael to feel an uncomfortable prickle of awkwardness but then he takes Michael’s hand, lets Michael help him up. 

They walk back to the stadium with their hands in their pockets but Michael doesn’t flinch away when their elbows brush. 

-

They play through the late September sunset and Luke seems better. He always comes more alive onstage no matter what, the same as they all do. Michael’s learned to switch it on when he has to even if he’s feeling like shit. It’s just what their lives are. 

As false a front as it might be, Michael’s still comforted to see Luke bouncing and happy, running around the stage and playing his heart out. For the duration of their set he lets himself believe that Luke is fine, that he’s been making it all up - projecting his own homesickness and exhaustion onto Luke, imagining that Luke’s been quieter, more likely to sit alone, coming to Michael less often for attention or chats or cuddles. It’s certainly what he’d rather think. He wants Luke to be okay, that’s all. Maybe he’s taken for granted that Luke will always be a sunny, content presence in his life, in his day. Maybe he just misses Luke, a little, even though he’s still right there. 

Something in Luke fades back away as soon as the stage adrenaline’s worn off and they’re back on the bus. Michael sticks close, wanting to keep an eye on him, but Calum wrangles Luke for a round of FIFA before Michael can get his cuddle claws in. That seems to perk Luke back up a little bit, even though he’s always been the least competitive of them.

It isn’t long, though, before Luke begs off and hands the controller over to Michael, stands to head back to his bunk. Calum makes a crack about Luke needing his beauty rest and at least Luke plays along for a moment, pouting his lips and striking a model pose with a hand on his hip. Michael watches him walk away and tries to shake the feeling of unease. Luke can handle himself. 

He lasts fifteen minutes of playing before asking Calum, “Do you think Luke is okay?”

Calum’s player easily kicks the ball past Michael’s goalie. “He’s better than you.”

“Fuck off,” Michael says. Luke is better than him, but only slightly, and he has no intention of admitting so out loud. “I mean like, emotionally.”

Calum shrugs. “You know how that boy gets in his feelings sometimes.” He scores against Michael again. Onscreen, the crowd cheers. Calum looks over at him. “Why don’t you just go ask him? Have one of your _talks_.” His emphasis on the last word implies something other than just talking, and he waggles his eyebrows to accentuate the point. 

“What,” Michael asks, “like how you and I used to _talk_?” It’s fine if Calum wants to imply that he’s fucking Luke; it’s not the first time they’ve been teased about it. In fact, after the Twitcam Kiss Incident Ashton had sat them down and had given a very open-minded and sincere but stern lecture about how if they’re going to do gay stuff it’s fine or whatever but try not to do it on camera unless they want a big meeting with the label and their publicists that probably wouldn’t be very fun. It had been a joke gone too far, then, but what happened with Michael and Calum in grade eight hadn’t been a joke. It hadn’t been very serious, either, but if Calum’s going to imply dick stuff when Michael’s just showing concern for Luke, well. 

“Whatever,” Calum grumbles. He pauses the game. “If you think something’s wrong with him, just go cuddle him better. You know it’ll help.” When Michael hesitates he says, “If you won’t do it, I will, I don’t like it when he’s sad either.”

The prospect of losing out on a potential cuddle is enough to spur Michael to action. He stands and sticks his tongue out at Calum but Cal’s already switching the game to one player mode, studiously ignoring him. 

-

Luke’s not in his bunk. For a moment Michael feels a weird stab of fear, an echo of earlier - wandering the venue and not finding Luke anywhere, no one having heard from him - but of course he couldn’t have gone so far this time, not when they’re all on the bus. Michael’s still peering into Luke’s empty bunk like a creep, like Luke might possibly just be curled up in a smaller-than-usual ball behind his penguin, when Luke emerges from the bathroom, bleary-eyed and blinking at him. 

“Hey,” Luke says, his voice husky. He must have already been properly asleep even though it’s not especially late. Luke can sleep even harder and longer than Michael, though he still manages to be a total ass dragon in the mornings whether he’s slept four hours or ten. 

“Do you wanna cuddle with me?” Michael blurts out. 

Luke scratches his forehead where his quiff’s slumped down in defeat, tickling him. “Okay,” he says. 

“Okay,” Michael echoes. Luke wavers in place for a moment and then Michael busies himself tucking things into place in his bunk, getting everything out of the way. Luke’s leant up against the wall waiting when Michael looks back to him, too tired to be impatient about it. He yawns like a bunny and Michael can’t look at him anymore, his broad bare chest and plaid pajama pants hanging off his hips. Somehow the thought of Luke watching him undress for bed is too embarrassing. “Get in,” he mutters. 

Luke follows orders, docile and quiet. He rolls onto his side, his eyes fluttering open and shut in increasingly longer blinks as Michael slips out of his clothes. Michael leaves his socks on to protect himself from Luke’s perpetually cold feet, and shuts the hall light off. Calum and Ashton will be in soon enough anyway, it’s late. 

He has to crawl over Luke to get to his side of the bunk, tucked up close to the wall. It irritates him that Luke’s forgotten or maybe doesn’t even care that he’s on Michael’s side, that Michael likes the wall or just to be furthest from the door. Luke’s teased him enough times about that, noble declarations that he’ll take the outside so he can protect Michael from the monsters, that they’ll just have to go through Luke to get to him. 

There’s so little space in the bunk as is, it feels like Luke’s grown extra knees and elbows just to annoy him, extra bits to get in the way until Michael manages to slot himself into the narrow space between Luke and the wall. He pulls the blankets up over them and slips his arm around Luke’s waist as huffily as possible. 

“You were the one who wanted a cuddle,” Luke mumbles. Michael squeezes him too hard, imagining himself as a giant cobra wrapping around Luke’s big dumb body to choke him out. Just choke all the sadness out of him, get rid of all the bad stuff so he can be sweet happy Lukey again. 

Michael shuts his eyes tight even though it’s already dark in the bunk, the lights off and curtain closed. He used to find it claustrophobic but now it’s just comforting. He focuses on breathing in and out, on the close press of Luke’s body to his. They’ve spooned like this too many times to count. He knows this, the warmth of Luke fitted perfectly against him, the way he smells, the soft hair at the base of his skull that curls up when he hasn’t had a haircut in awhile. It settles Michael in his body, in his bones. He wonders if Luke feels the same way, being held. 

“Are you okay?” Michael asks, more breathed against the back of Luke’s neck than really said aloud. 

Luke tenses up against him, just barely, an automatic reaction that Michael only knows about because Luke’s pressed so tightly to his body. He shifts, and Michael holds him tighter, scared he’s going to try and leave. “I’m just tired,” Luke says, his voice small. There’s something raw in it when he adds, “I’ll be okay.” It’s not really what Michael was looking for, but Luke feels for his arm around him, curls his hand around Michael’s wrist and slides it up, gently cupping the top of Michael’s hand. He doesn’t say anything else, and eventually his breathing slows, his body settling heavily against Michael’s with exhaustion. 

Michael frets about it but it’s not long before the day catches up to him, before the steady drum of Luke’s heartbeat lulls him to sleep. It’s just always been easier to fall asleep with Luke close. 

-

The curtain opens to bright light and Ashton saying, “Hey, do you know where Luke - oh,” and then jerking the curtain shut and adding, too loudly for the hour and Michael’s taste in general, “You guys better not be naked under there. Get up, we’ve got that radio thing.”

“I’m naked under all my clothes,” Luke mumbles into the pillow. Michael squeezes him around his waist, burying his face against Luke’s bare shoulder blade to hide from the light, and Luke makes a grumbly sound. “I hate you, leave me alone,” he whines. 

Michael tries not to take it too personally, as Luke could be addressing Ashton through the curtain, Michael behind him, or the morning itself. Luke’s just so warm against him. Michael’s always liked waking up with someone next to him, it’s nice to come into the day with a cuddle. He rubs his nose against the back of Luke’s neck and chances a tiny kiss to the soft stretch of muscle between his shoulder and throat. 

Luke grunts ambivalently, always committed to staying in his grumps if anyone tries to drag him out of bed before the hour of his choosing. Michael’s no morning person himself but Luke’s thundercloud crankiness is so much to fight. He wonders if Luke’s ever tried morning sex. 

“Up,” Michael whispers. He pats Luke’s belly and Luke hisses a little and sucks it in. 

“We have to leave for the station soon!” Ashton says from outside the curtain. “I’m going to leave and when I come back you both better be dressed and ready to go! I don’t want to see any naked penises!”

Michael mutters, “I’ll show you a naked penis,” more out of habit than anything else. 

It gets a little laugh out of Luke anyway; he’s always been easy for dick jokes, even lazy ones. Michael lets the triumph bouy him up and he even manages to coax Luke out of the bunk with him. 

Luke stays crabby for a bit but no more so than usual for an early morning. He perks up by the time they arrive at the radio station, or at least he puts on a believable enough performance of being Cheerful Luke. They play an acoustic set for the fans and during the Q&A Michael gets a marriage proposal from one of them, to which Ashton responds that he’s taken, “By me,” Luke contributes. 

Michael holds up his hand to show off an imaginary ring, points instead to a wristband that Luke did in fact give him some time ago. “Our engagement bracelet,” Michael says, and the crowd responds with proper “aww”s of appreciation, which both Calum and Ashton echo. “Thanks for your support, guys,” Michael tells them. 

The night’s show goes well, with Michael in a better mood since it seems like Luke has cheered up. He might cling a bit more to Luke before and after but that’s hardly out of the ordinary for them. He’s always been a bit of an emotional sponge, it’s too easy to soak up the mood of the people around him, matching Luke’s silence, Ashton’s loud tones. His vocabulary bro’s up significantly after long talks with Calum. Luke’s not precisely the same, Michael doesn’t think, but it can’t hurt to sit close and be forcefully smiley around him, hope that his good mood is contagious. 

Bus call comes early with a long drive to Texas ahead of them. The early morning’s caught up to everyone by then, Luke subdued and Calum and Ashton snippy, and Michael has vague fantasies that he might crawl into his bunk and find that it’s become a portal back to his room at home, that he could just lie down and wake up in his own bed. Even though it takes longer each time to readjust when they have time off back in Australia, falling asleep without a foreign city’s sounds drifting up through a hotel window, or the low rumble of the bus engine taking them to the next destination. Nothing’s familiar enough anymore except for Luke, Calum, and Ashton. If only they could be trusted to consistently lie still enough for him to sleep on. 

He crawls into his bunk anyway when they get back with half-baked thoughts of watching a movie alone, something he doesn’t have to think too much about. 

He’s barely twenty minutes into Iron Man when his phone dings with a tweet from Luke. It’s a shot through the bus window of the town they’re passing through, the deep blue night sky with sunset fading up at the edges. The caption reads _The bus feels like home_. Zoning out in front of a film suddenly doesn’t seem quite so important knowing Luke’s alone and staring out the window into the dark. Why can’t Luke brood alone with superhero movies like a normal person anyway? 

Michael shuts his laptop and slinks out of his bunk without really thinking it over, heading toward the back lounge. He slides the door open and has to blink to adjust to the dark room. Luke’s not even looking at his phone or anything, he’s literally just sitting there in the dark watching the night pass by through the window. Something hot and aching curls up in Michael’s stomach when Luke looks up at him and just says, “Close the door.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Michael asks. He steps through and snaps the door shut behind him. Luke’s curled up so small on the couch, and when a streetlight illuminates him Michael sees that he’s holding his stuffed penguin tightly in his arms. It’s fucked up. Why would Luke turn to a penguin when he could cuddle Michael? Michael’s cuddles should solve everything, or at least make everything easier to bear. 

Luke shrugs, curling up tighter. Michael huffs out a sigh and slides as carefully as he can onto the couch next to Luke, close enough that he can wrap himself around Luke’s hunched body from behind. Luke wiggles a little, making a huffy noise about it, but Michael stubbornly clings. Luke’s warm, the heat of him comforting through his shirt. Michael rubs his nose against the back of Luke’s neck and pretends this cuddle isn’t at least partly selfish. 

“Do you ever think -“ Luke starts, then pauses. Michael tucks his chin into the curve of Luke’s shoulder, follows his eyes up to where he’s looking at the stars. He doesn’t know how Luke does it, the staring, the quiet. Michael always needs something going on, music to listen to or something to do with his hands. He’s bad at stillness, at being left alone with his thoughts. Luke’s always been able to just look out the window for hours, sit in silence and keep to himself, even if he doesn’t always like being physically alone. “Like, about when this is over. What you’ll do?”

“You leaving the band?” Michael murmurs against his neck. It comes out more seriously than he’d like, so he adds, “Finally, we can replace you with Niall.” 

Luke grunts at him, pairing it with a little annoyed wriggle that unsettles Michael from his comfy shoulder dent. Michael moves back, lets Luke have a little space. Instead of taking it Luke turns to face him, staying tucked close, his body angled into Michael’s. “I mean like after everything. We won’t always be famous.”

“You’re the lead singer,” Michael says, his voice cracking a bit. He swallows, tries to cover it up by touching Luke, gentle fingertips on his jaw. It feels too tender, too raw, so he goes farther, slips his hand around the back of Luke’s neck, thumb rubbing over the top of his spine. Luke’s head drops, submitting to Michael’s touch with a sigh. “You’ll always be famous. No matter what you do.”

“I don’t wanna do anything without you guys,” Luke mumbles. “I don’t know how to do anything but be in this band. I don’t want anything else.” He pulls back a little, looking Michael in the eye. “That’s weird, isn’t it? I just wanna do this forever. Nothing else feels right, just the four of us.”

“I wanna do it forever too,” Michael says, hesitant, not quite sure what Luke’s getting at, afraid to think about it too hard. 

Luke sighs like he’s frustrated, not with Michael but maybe with himself. “No, I mean. This is like all I’ve ever known.” He looks out through the window at the road passing by, then back at Michael. “This is my home, here with you and Cal and Ash, and it’s all I want. Shouldn’t I want, like - girls?” At this he puts his head in his hands. “Why don’t I want a girlfriend?” he says, muffled in his palms. “Why do I just want.” He stops, his shoulders shaking a little as Michael rubs them, trying to comfort him, his own heart pounding on the edge of revelation. “Why do I just want you,” Luke says finally, his voice barely audible. There’s not much of a question in it. “All of you.”

Michael lets his hands slip slowly from Luke’s shoulders, down to his lap. He covers Luke’s clenched fists with his and squeezes, leans closer though it feels like a monumental effort, swimming through air thick with new secrets. There are puzzle pieces slotting together in his mind: how Luke never goes after girls, the frequency with which they end up in the same bed, holding each other so close. He thinks back to the summer before, a hotel room in Vegas where he’d curled himself into the end parenthesis of Luke’s body in bed as Ashton recorded their intentions to all get married to each other. They couldn’t even remember whose idea it had been, and that night they’d all stayed up late, sunburned and smelling of chlorine, all flopped together on one bed and calling each other husband and sweetie in silly voices. 

Luke had been so happy then, they all had been. Michael remembers how much sense it had made at the time, feeling like he could have stayed there forever. With Luke, his boys, his band. 

“You have us,” Michael says, leaning in until his forehead bumps Luke’s. “You know that,” he says, more breathlessly than he’d like, a last gasp of respectability and sense before he lets himself fall over that edge with Luke. There’s no going back if he lets himself want this the way he always knew he could. The way he should have known Luke’s been wanting it too. 

“I _want_ you,” Luke says, almost angrily. He touches Michael now, his hand moving firmly to the back of Michael’s neck, forcing him to tilt his face up. Luke is so fucking brave it makes Michael ache inside. Luke is brave and beautiful and he needs things that Michael can give him, that Michael wants to give him, and he’s not going to stop himself anymore. He’s not going to pretend to hate Luke because he wants to kiss him, he’s not going to let himself brush off cuddles and bed-sharing and fucking Twitcam kisses like it’s all some big meaningless joke. All this time he thought he was being selfless, never giving into what he wanted, but all he’s done is deny Luke what he needed. Maybe that’s what they’ve all been doing. 

“Have me,” Michael breathes out. Luke’s eyes widen, something like hope in them, but Michael barely catches a glimpse of it before he leans in and captures Luke’s mouth with his own. 

It’s soft at first, Michael suddenly hesitant, doubting himself - this is Luke, his best friend, how could Luke possibly want him this way after all this time? - but his doubts are assuaged in little more than a moment when Luke makes a low needy sound against his lips, opens for him and presses closer. Their limbs tangle awkwardly until Michael just takes control, grabs at Luke’s ass and hauls him practically onto his lap, his hands seeking beneath Luke’s shirt, fingers digging into the warm skin of his back as Luke moans against him, gives the kiss back to Michael as hard and deep as Michael gives it to him. 

Feelings flood back into him, things he’s tried to suppress, the weeks after their brief teasing kiss where Michael swore he carried around the ghost of it, the feeling persistent, echoing and drawing him constantly back to Luke. Wanting so much more, then, of Luke’s mouth, his skin, his body pressed close. It changed something between them, between all of them. He remembers Calum starting to draw away from Luke’s cuddles, Luke whining about it and crawling into bed with Michael for snuggly naps, eventually just coming to Michael first. They got close again, as close as they had been the first time in London, tucked up in Luke’s bed together talking about anything and everything for long hours in the dark. 

It hurt, kissing Luke once but never getting to do it again, but Michael never regretted it. He just wishes now that he’d known he could have had this all along. 

Luke takes kiss after kiss, the first clumsy push against him melted into an sweet slide of lips, bodies moving easily together, like they were as born for this as they were born to make music with each other. Michael can’t help wanting more right away, the frustrations of a hundred days waking up hard next to Luke and unable to do anything about it bubbling up in him, overflowing into increasingly frantic touches. He has to break their kiss and gasp for breath, Luke inhaling air just as greedily as he stares down at Michael from where he’s astride Michael’s lap. Streetlamps draw patterns on his face as they pass, Luke’s skin freckled with dust mote shadows like stars. In the cool dark the flush of Luke’s cheeks still stands out brightly, his teeth white, flashing as he digs them into his kiss-swollen lower lip. Michael could love him forever, probably. It terrifies him. 

“Is this okay?” Luke asks. His voice trembles as much as his hands, warm and cupping Michael’s cheeks. His thumbs stroke Michael’s cheekbones like he’s afraid Michael might break if he handles him too roughly. It looks like it kills him to ask, “You want this too, don’t you?”

Michael has to swallow before he can speak, his voice shaky when he admits, “Yeah, I do.” He nods, leans his face into Luke’s palm, voice even fainter when he admits, “I have.”

“Oh,” Luke says. He looks overwhelmed. “Well, we’ve been pretty stupid then.”

“You, maybe,” Michael says, too easy to just slip back into the easy rhythm of teasing Luke, hassling him just to watch his face scrunch up, to make him whine. “I was just waiting for you to finally realize you wanted my bod.”

True to form, Luke scrunches up his nose, whines, “Shut up,” and rocks himself a little in Michael’s lap, enough to make Michael groan. Luke’s eyes go hot again, and Michael squeezes his waist, lifts his hips and twists them so he can get Luke down on his back and go in for another kiss. 

“You shut up,” Michael says against his lips, and then he makes it so that they both do.

-

“We’re in Vegas,” Ashton announces. He pulls open the suite’s curtains, making a racket and revealing a long, bright, sunshine-lit view of the city through to the desert hills. “Time to go clubbing.”

“I’ll club you,” Luke offers. It’s nine a.m. and he’s not quite awake yet. Michael drifts closer to him, sneaks in a quick hand-hold with Ashton and Calum distracted by the view and the mini-bar, respectively. Luke glances at him, quirks his mouth in a reluctant little smile, and squeezes Michael’s hand back. 

It’s been two days and nights of bus time, and Michael’s probably never been more ecstatic to be in a hotel suite with rooms and doors and hopefully sound-muffling walls. The last two nights of cuddling with Luke in his bunk and stealing all possible kisses have been nice, sure, but Michael has needs. Dick needs. Even holding Luke’s hand for a moment has his cock perking up in interest in his pants. They have a ridiculous day ahead of them, playing a festival and doing press, and so far today Michael’s cock has not taken the lecture he gave it about patience very seriously. 

“You know we can see you holding hands, right?” Calum asks. He cracks open a beer from the mini-bar as Michael leaps away from Luke like his hand has turned into a collection of spiders. 

“Hand-holding is the new cuddling,” Luke says defensively. “It feels nice.”

“You two’ve also been cuddling more,” Ashton points out, finally distracted from the sights. “I would say hold-holding is an aspect of cuddling. A subset.” He looks back and forth between them, as though they might be clandestinely cuddling still right before his narrowed eyes. “We agreed that there’s no two-way marriages in this band. It’s all of us or nothing.”

From what Michael remembers of their last trip to the Vegas, that was in fact part of what they agreed to. There may have actually been a contract scribbled on a napkin at some point. “I’m still in if you guys are, but there have to be conjugal visits,” he says, adding, “I have needs, you know.”

“Conjugal visits are for married prisoners,” Luke points out. Michael side-eyes him, and he shrugs.

“Fine then. Conjug…ation?” Michael tries.

Luke shakes his head. “That’s grammar.”

“Fucking,” Calum contributes. He slings an arm around Luke’s waist and pulls him close while taking a long sip of his beer, keeping an eye on Michael like he might attempt to steal Luke back. 

“Yeah!” Michael says. “Sex fucking.” There. Definitely no room for confusion on that front now. If he’s going to marry anyone, it’s going to involve sex fucking. His dick is getting interested again. He stares Calum down as Calum strokes his fingertips casually over Luke’s belly. It doesn’t help that Luke looks like he’s about to start purring. 

“I’m not marrying anyone I have to sex fuck,” Ashton says, then frowns. “Wait.” 

“We’ll sex fuck alone then,” Luke says, leaning into the curve of Calum’s body. 

That’s it. Michael prowls into his space, heedless of Calum hiding behind Luke, his arm still tight around Luke’s waist. If anyone’s going to be sex fucking, it’s Michael. 

Luke tilts his head back, offering up his throat, so Michael takes it. They’ve played around like this before, he can get away with it, he and Luke have writhed atop a protesting Calum plenty of times. So what if this time in the moment he winds his arm around Calum’s waist too? The movement sandwiches Luke between them as Michael mouths gently at Luke’s throat, licking at his skin, sucking lightly at it like he might leave a hickey there if it pleases him. Luke forgets to make a show of struggling, or perhaps he just doesn’t care. His hands fit warmly on Michael’s waist, and his soft moan makes Michael helpless but to press closer. 

Ashton says, “Guys?” his voice gone high-pitched.

-

The best part of playing festivals is afternoon sets generously bookended by day drinking; the worst part of playing festivals is oh god it’s evening in the desert in September and Michael’s bloodstream has turned to beer. The term “sloshed” is starting to feel less like slang for drunkenness and more like a direct description of Michael’s every physical move. 

He tries to slosh casually over to Luke, but the sexy slink he’s aiming for ends up resembling the trajectory of a drunken snake. It lands him in the right place, anyway, roughly. He hugs onto Luke’s side like a koala on a branch and pretends it’s exactly what he was going for. “Hi,” he whispers sensually into Luke’s ear. It comes out louder than he intended and makes Luke giggle. He pitches his voice as low as he can this time to ask, “Do you wanna go make out?”

“Yes,” Luke says, quietly but fervently. He tilts his head to the side and Michael obliges him with a little nuzzle. “Where were you? I’ve been looking for you for a hundred years. Someone gave me a shot of tequila,” he whispers. “I coughed. There were all these girls.”

“Yeah,” Michael says. Jealousy burns down into his belly like a swallowed tequila shot but then it passes and he’s just left with the buzz of Luke’s proximity, the slightly sweaty warmth of his body pressed close to cling to. He nuzzles Luke’s cheek again, gives him a discreet sniff even though he knows it’s weird. He’s too drunk to care. Luke is close and wants to make out with him and he smells like hot salt. It makes Michael want to throw back Patron and lick the salt sweat sheen from Luke’s throat, chase it with lime and go back in for another. He’ll just never get enough of Luke. “Let’s go somewhere.”

Luke bumps his hip against Michael’s, brushes their fingertips together like butterfly kisses and then pulls away, looks at Michael with a promise in his eyes that makes Michael feel ready to follow him just about anywhere. 

Luke leads so Michael follows, trusting that he knows a place to go even though it’s a hell of a crowd, all kinds of acts he knows at least vaguely wandering around. He keeps his eyes on the curls at the back of Luke’s neck so he doesn’t get distracted winding through all the people, wishing he could just grab Luke’s hand properly and hold it. Who cares if everyone sees? They could probably get away with it, roll on the kindergarten charm of sticking with the buddy system so they don’t lose each other. 

After all they’ve already lost Calum and Ashton, Michael left them bar-side and intently discussing the girliness of a screwdriver versus a vodka pineapple, and whether it’s amped up by the addition of maraschino cherries, and if so, how many cherries are permissable before it gets weird? It’s part of their ongoing discussion series of the relative gender neutrality of cocktails (with an early take concluding that “mixed drinks” is a manlier term than “cocktails,” which Michael found ironic but whatever), and instead of pointing out again that Ashton should just accept that he enjoys sugary drinks on the red-to-pink spectrum, Michael chose to slope off in search of snacks. Which he found; he hopes he doesn’t taste too much like nachos still when Luke kisses him. 

They reach a wall and Luke makes a big show of looking right to left before grabbing Michael’s wrist and tugging him in the direction of a door that he hadn’t even noticed. “I saw this earlier,” Luke says. “I thought it might be a good place to sneak off.”

“Luke Hemmings,” Michael says, grinning. “You wanna kiss me sooooo bad.”

“Hush,” Luke grumbles, but he’s got a little smile on his face. They get out to the other side of the door and Luke sets it carefully so it doesn’t shut all the way behind them and lock them in the little alley he’s found. “ _You_ wanna kiss me so bad,” he tells Michael, but he’s already fisting his hand in Michael’s shirt and tugging him forward, so it doesn’t really do much to emphasize that Michael’s supposed to be the thirsty one here. 

Michael gives him what he wants, what they both want. They fit together easily now, just a few days of being able to kiss each other somewhat at their leisure and they’ve worked it out almost perfectly. Michael gets as fresh as he dares in semi-public, his hands slipping beneath Luke’s shirt to feel up his bare waist and pull him in close. 

He can taste the memory of tequila on Luke’s tongue, the lime salt tingle on his lips. It makes him moan, wanting to get Luke beneath him, taste as much of him as he can. He wants to take his time with Luke, he needs to. Just get Luke spread out naked on a bed where they have hours with each other instead of minutes, instead of frantic kissing in moments they can steal alone or frustrating, cramped cuddles in the bunks on the bus. 

Each kiss bleeds into the next slow and hot, the sunshine heat and warm air as present a sensation as Luke’s hands on his skin, stroking at the base of his spine, Luke’s mouth on his, slick and sharp with the tease of teeth. Michael lets himself sink into it, the persistent need of the last few days simmering in him, dulled for the moment by the intoxication rolling through him, the press of late summer air around them. He’s half-hard but too paranoid about getting caught to get all the way there, even though a sudden fantasy of Luke sinking to his knees nearly does it. 

They should get back, is what they should do. They should gather Calum and Ashton and head back to the suite. It hasn’t been long but Michael already feels bad about what they’re hiding from them. They need to know what Michael knows about Luke, they need to know what Luke needs. What Michael needs, if he’s as honest with himself as he’s tried to be, thinking it over during the last forty-eight hours.

He’s just getting up the wherewithal to pull away and share his thoughts with Luke when there’s a rattle and shush of the alley door opening. Michael snaps back so quickly that his head bonks against the wall. 

“Hi guys,” Ashton says. His expression neatly conveys that he’s seen everything, his whole body automatically blocking the crack in the door in case anyone catches them kissing barely-concealed in public like morons. 

“Hi,” Michael says, rubbing the back of his head. “We were just looking for you.”

“In each other’s mouths?” Ashton asks. “Because I’m not generally there, as a rule.” 

“It’s always the last place you look?” Luke says. He smiles at Ashton like the wide grin emoji, his eyebrows raised. Michael looks back and forth between them, trying not to picture too vividly the ways in which Ashton could be in their mouths.

“Uh huh,” Ashton says severely. “Meghan Trainor told me she saw two boys holding hands and heading in this direction and I had a feeling. If that’s a bromance thing now I think you two are being a bit too progressive,” he hisses, his voice lowering as he ducks in closer to keep from being overheard. “The world needs to catch up because right now holding hands is a dating thing unless you’re girls, which neither of you are, despite how much you like doing each other’s hair. Also,” he gestures to the general disheveled state of the both of them, flapping his hand at their lips, “are we kissing each other again now? I thought the Twitcam Incident was a one-off. Is it a two-off now? What’s going on with you guys?”

“It’s just…lip cuddling?” Michael offers. 

“Lip cuddling,” Ashton repeats. 

“Lip cuddling,” Luke confirms. 

Ashton stares them down. “Right. Back to the hotel.”

Michael and Luke exchange glances, but Ashton’s already done a turnabout, walking away assuming they’ll follow. Which they do, meek as scolded ducklings. 

It’s gotten late, sunset looming over the hills in the distance. Michael’s ready for a lie-down, anyway. Also more kisses. A lie-down with kisses and maybe some thrusting. Definitely some thrusting. Ashton seems keen on a lecture, Michael can see it, the tension in his shoulders that’ll only relax after he’s gone in for a proper bout of excoriation. He’ll say his piece and then wind down and bring them in for hugs and if it takes too long to get to the hugging, well, Michael will just get the thrusting started. 

They pick up Calum halfway through the festival grounds by the Red Bull stand where Ashton texted him to meet them. When he catches up to them, his greeting consists of knocking eagerly in between Michael and Luke and intoning, “You guys are in trooouble.” He giggles and smacks a wet kiss on Michael’s cheek. “I love you, though.” Michael shoves at him a bit for the sake of it but mostly just wriggles happily; Calum’s clearly got a buzz going, and he’s always been an adorably cuddly drunk who just wants everyone to know how pretty they are and how much he loves them. 

“Aw, how come I don’t get a kiss?” Luke complains, never pleased to miss out on any freely given affection. With his arm around Calum’s waist he still manages to brush his knuckles against Michael’s side, flashing him a little smile when Michael looks back at him. 

“It sounds like you’ve gotten plenty of kisses already,” Calum says, raising his eyebrows comically high in exaggerated suggestiveness. He’s probably aiming for a whisper when he adds, close into Luke’s ear, “I can’t believe you and Mikey got caught. _We_ never got caught.”

“What now?” Michael asks, nearly tripping over an innocuous patch of grass as his whole body protests trying to walk while interpreting what the fuck Calum just said. “Got caught what? What?”

Luke’s cheeks have gone bright, fiery red, and Ashton turns to give them a glare so profound that Michael and Luke actually quail, ducking back. Calum just says, “Hiiiiii Ashton,” and grins at him. He reaches in Ashton’s direction, probably trying to pet him in greeting, but his arm is still around Luke’s neck so he mostly just accidentally forces Luke down into a headlock position and makes him yell in protest. 

“We’ll talk back at the hotel,” Ashton says, his words as final as a law put on the books. Calum makes a big show of zipping his lips. 

Everyone is quiet in the car back to the hotel. They’re quiet as security takes them up the service elevator to their suite, except for Calum, who hums the James Bond theme very, very low. At one point it becomes the Jaws theme, then switches back. 

When they walk in Michael immediately heads for the bedroom he picked. He has an appointment with Luke’s dick and it’s almost thrusting o’clock, so if Ashton has a lecture to deliver then he’s goddamned well going to do it in the sexy comfortable venue of Michael’s choosing. Besides, it was hot outside all day and Michael wants to enjoy feeling cool and pleasant. He tugs Luke behind him, Calum releasing Luke from his clinging grip with a little cry, and says, “I need to lie down,” to no one in particular. 

“Fine,” says Ashton, and follows them. Calum tags along, either because he doesn’t want to hang out alone or because he wants to lie down too and has forgotten he has his own room and bed. He kicks his shoes off and flops facedown onto the bed as Michael drags Luke into a cuddle on the other side of it, so it’s probably the latter. 

“We like each other,” Michael says to forestall any questions. It’s a weak effort, but at least it’ll cut off any conversational lines about drunken mistakes. Luke, draped half on top of him, rubs his smiling face against Michael’s collarbone and leaves a little kiss there. Michael tries to make it subtle when he shifts his hips so Luke’s thigh rubs over his dick a little. 

“I like all of you too,” Ashton says, like it’s obvious. “That doesn’t mean we have to go kissing each other. There are many, many other people that we could like and kiss without interfering with band dynamics. Can’t you find other boys, Michael?”

“Ex _cuse_ you,” Michael says, sitting up as much as he can without dislodging Luke, who’s now progressed to hiding his face in Michael’s chest like a giant snuggly ostrich. “Luke was the one that hit on me!”

“I believe it,” Calum says, still facedown in the bedsheets.

“Okay, what the fuck,” Michael yells, sitting up properly and making Luke roll off of him with a whine. “Did you guys hook up or something?”

Calum shrugs. His nose is squished to the bed and it looks dumb and Michael is about to shove him off the stupid mattress and see how he likes the floor. Meanwhile Luke’s curled up into a ball like a threatened hedgehog. Michael hates both of them and is going to start kissing Ashton instead, at least he’s not a lying liar who purposefully omits relevant information. 

“I think it’s time we all be honest with each other,” Ashton says, primly folding his arms. 

“Oh, is it?” Calum finally raises his head and rolls over onto his back, making Luke squeak and roll back against Michael’s side. He sits up on his elbows and stares Ashton down. “Is it that time?”

“Holy shit,” Michael says, looking back and forth between them, at the new panic on Ashton’s face and the confrontation on Calum’s. If Calum’s three for three on secretly hooking up with all of them, Michael owes him a high-five for being slick as fuck. Michael couldn’t keep a secret like that if he was paid to do it, he’s already almost blurted everything out to Calum at least seven times in the last two days. “Everyone better start talking. Should we Keek this? Four way marriage in Vegas, the sequel?”

“We will not be Keeking this,” Ashton says. He sighs loudly, finally joining them on the bed like it pains him to do it. 

“Cuddle positions,” Calum says. He shuffles over to make room for Ashton next to him, just enough space for them to lie down together like they used to in the last London house: Michael and Luke cuddled up in the bed they shared, Calum and Ashton next to them in the spare bed pushed against Michael’s that Luke always rolled out of and into Michael’s arms if he tried to fall asleep in it. They’d spent many a comfortable domestic morning like that, discussing the day ahead over their individually preferred caffeinated beverages, getting in a little snuggle time with each other. Michael tries not to get too comfortable, even though his thoughts are drifting back to thrusting-related activities.

“Well, Luke and I have been kissing a lot,” Michael volunteers. Luke uncurls from his panic ball and looks at Michael with big eyes, then edges closer until Michael grabs his wrist and drags him over for a proper cuddle. “And we’re gonna keep doing it. We’re gonna fuck, too, probably,” he says, then glances down at Luke for confirmation on that last one; they haven’t discussed it, but Michael wants to, and Luke probably wants to, right? Judging by the quiet little grin on Luke’s face, right. Oh, thank god. Michael wriggles a bit in place, his dick perking up at the thought of fucking. They could fuck in _this bed_ , even. He suddenly cares rather less about getting all the gay intra-band sex gossip he can.

“Luke and I used to kiss a lot,” says Calum. 

Michael snaps to attention, caring again. “Oh?” he asks. “When was this?”

Calum shrugs. “Awhile ago. In school, a little bit after too.”

“In school,” Michael repeats. “Like in school, when you and I were,” he trails off, waving a hand meaningfully in Calum’s direction. 

“Wait, what?” Luke says, sitting up a little. “When you and Calum were what?”

“That’s an excellent question,” says Calum. He stares determinedly up at the ceiling, avoiding all of their eyes. “I would like another beer.”

“You may not have another beer,” Ashton says, in what Michael secretly thinks of as his Teacher Voice. “You can have water. And a vow of chastity.”

“That wouldn’t really work well for you when we’re on break though, would it?” Calum asks Ashton, finally looking at him. 

Michael is going to _freak out_ , probably. “Okay,” he says. He holds up a hand and begins ticking their gay liaisons off on his fingers. “So I’m in the middle of a thing with Luke right now. Luke wants to like, be with all of us -“

“Oh god,” Luke says, hiding his face in his hands.

“Oh,” Michael says, realizing that’s also new information to half the band. “Well, it was going to come out eventually anyway. Haha, come out. So we’ve got this thing going on. And Calum and Luke used to have a thing going on, possibly during when Cal and I were hooking up back in school, feel free to clarify that by the way -“

“There wasn’t really any overlap,” Calum says. He pauses. “That I remember.”

“Nice,” Michael says. “So I’ve hooked up with Calum and Luke, and you and Calum,” he says, turning to Ashton, “also fuck around? Just when we’re back at home?”

“We’ve only done it a couple of times,” Ashton says, his cheeks dark red. He looks Michael in the eye, though, when Michael catches his gaze. Michael remembers, suddenly and with great clarity, his micro-crush on Ashton back when he first joined the band. He would have gone for it then if he’d have known that Ashton was into guys. Of course, he would have gone for Luke as well. It’s starting to seem less wild and out of left field, what Luke confessed to him. 

“Like, five or whatever,” says Calum. He frowns at himself. “Not that I’m keeping track.”

“Really? Because your sordid gay sex diaries sound like they would be quite a read if you were,” Ashton says to him. Michael raises his eyebrows as Ashton stares Calum down. “I thought that I was like, your exception.”

“No, I was _your_ exception,” Calum tells him. “You can fuck me and still think you’re straight, I don’t care. But that doesn’t mean I have to feel the same way.”

“Guys,” Luke says. He’s stiffened up in Michael’s arms, and Michael automatically pulls him closer, rubbing his back to soothe him. “Don’t fight, please? We were all sort of lying to each other, weren’t we? There’s obviously something going on here that we haven’t acknowledged, if we’ve all been hooking up with each other in secret.”

“Hormones,” Calum hypothesizes, looking moody about it.

“Experimentation,” mumbles Ashton, his shoulders slumped. 

“Looooooooove,” Michael contributes. “We could probably still get a marriage license at this hour, I’m just saying.”

“Polygamy is still illegal,” Luke says. He wiggles a bit in Michael’s arms until Michael loosens his grip a little and lets Luke shift around into a proper spoon. 

“You’re not the real president,” Michael says into Luke’s ear, “we don’t have to listen to you.” He licks at Luke’s earlobe, and then bites down on it lightly. It just makes Luke wiggle against him more, shifting back to rub against him in a way that feels deliberate. Okay, they have the rest of their lives to dissect the details of their secret homosexual entanglements, right now Michael’s got a big warm Luke to cuddle and kiss and touch. “I’m glad we’re all being honest with each other now,” he says to everyone. “I feel that I honestly need to tell you all that I want to get Luke naked. You can hang around and watch or you can leave and keep arguing with each other, I don’t care, just do it in another room.”

“You do it another room,” Calum says in a sulky mutter.

“This is my room,” Michael says. He pets Luke’s hip, Luke arching back into his touch. “Do what you want.”

“I’m stealing one of your waters,” Calum says, and rolls over onto his side to grab a water bottle off the bedside table. Michael only vaguely notes what he’s doing, more intent on the feel of Luke’s warm belly against his palm as he pushes up Luke’s shirt. Luke squirms back around in his arms, obediently helps Michael get him out of his shirt entirely. His eyes are wide, questioning, and Michael does his best to answer with a little shrug, a smile and a kiss. He knows Luke wants Ashton and Calum to stay, and judging by the way Calum’s settled in with his purloined water and Ashton’s still sat up stubbornly on the bed, Luke is going to get his way. 

Michael’s greedy for kisses now that he’s allowed them, greedy for Luke’s touch and his body, the warmth of his skin. He pulls back to look Luke over, his broad chest and pointed pink nipples, the naked need on his face. Just looking down at Luke, feeling him so close, has Michael so hard it feels like he could come in two seconds if Luke’s hand grazes his cock. He considers for a moment if it’s weird that Calum and Ashton are on the bed with them but it feels strangely natural, like something they’ve done before except that things are more erect than usual. Well, not even that is necessarily true considering the number of times they’ve all fallen asleep in one bed watching a film or something, or all tackled Luke and ended up with one or more hard-ons between them due to friction. Also due to them secretly and not-so-secretly wanting to fuck each other, apparently. 

“Get your pants off,” Michael tells Luke. Luke swallows but scrambles to follow the order, fumbling his jeans open and shoving them and his underpants down, too, black denim and Michael’s own leopard print underwear pushed out of the way so his cock springs out, full and pink and as nice-looking as the rest of Luke is. Michael takes over pulling at Luke’s jeans and with some shifting they manage to get him out of them, leaving Luke flushed and bare under Michael. 

“You too,” Luke says, so eager for it that he’s panting a little, his cheeks pinked with need, blue eyes gone mostly black pupil as he tugs at the hem of Michael’s shirt. Michael has to shift back to tend to undressing and it makes Luke whine, reaching out again so his fingertips brush Michael’s hip as he strips off. 

“I might leave,” Ashton says, his voice pitched high. He’s staring at both of them when Michael turns to look at him after tossing his shirt on the floor. He doesn’t look like an embarrassed or uninterested person. He looks like a crash dieter standing in front of a delicious cake. 

“Don’t,” Luke says. He shifts over enough that he can just reach over Calum to touch his fingertips to Ashton’s knee, stroking him a little there. “Please stay. Both of you,” he adds, his knuckles trailing over Calum’s thigh as he pulls his hand back. “I want you here.”

“We never got this far,” Calum says to Luke, looking over Luke’s body, checking out his cock. It makes Michael want to growl at him, fold his hand over Luke’s cock and hide it from his view. It’s for him, he gets it first at least. Okay, looks like jealousy is something he’s going to have to work on if they’re going to do this. 

“Hey,” Michael says, nudging his knee against Luke’s thigh, wanting Luke’s attention back. He gets it as he starts to unbutton his jeans, Luke staring blatantly between his legs waiting for the big reveal. It is pretty big in Michael’s estimation, compared to what he’s seen in his time. He doesn’t have a terrifying porno dick but his is nice, thick and as pink as his mouth is. 

Luke seems to like it anyway, judging by the way he reaches out for it with the kind of fascination he usually reserves for new stuffed toy penguins. He flicks his eyes up to Michael’s first, asking permission, and Michael spreads his thighs, pushes his hips forward to show himself off, offer it up. He likes being looked at like this, touched like he’s something pretty. 

“Damn, bro, I think it’s gotten bigger,” Calum says, looking at his cock with some appreciation. Michael groans helplessly as Luke grips his cock, encircling it in his fist and slowly stroking it. 

“Oh god,” Ashton says, rubbing his temples like all the gayness is giving him a migraine. He then peeks sideways through his slotted fingers and checks Michael’s dick out for himself. He looks impressed in spite of himself, then pretends he wasn’t looking when Michael sends a sparkly smile his way. 

“It has,” Michael says proudly. “It’s totally gotten bigger since high school.”

“Nice,” Calum says, nodding in approval. He slides a little closer on the bed like he might want to investigate further, but pauses as Luke pats Michael’s thigh to regain his attention and then, bending himself close, opens his mouth and licks at the head of Michael’s cock. 

Michael swears, wavering a little on his knees and steadying himself with a hand on Luke’s warm bare shoulder as Luke looks up at him with innocent eyes. He even bats his eyelashes, the little fucker. Michael slides his hand up the side of Luke’s neck, cups his jaw and strokes a thumb over his cheekbone. Luke leans into his palm as he mouths wetly at the head of Michael’s dick, like he’s exploring it with his mouth, or like he’s being an awful little tease. “Gonna suck my cock, Lukey?” he asks. The question makes Luke’s hips jerk, humping the air, his cheeks going even redder. 

They’ve barely started and Luke already looks sex-wrecked. Of course, it has apparently been like three years of foreplay for him already. 

“I’m gonna jerk off,” Calum announces, his jeans already half open. He kicks lightly at Ashton, foot nudging at his hip. “Ash?”

“I’m gonna go to church,” Ashton mutters. “For like a year.”

“Kinky,” Michael says. He slides a hand into Luke’s hair, guiding him to take a little more of his cock in. They could probably be doing this more comfortably, both of them, but the image is really adding to it for Michael, Luke hunched over his lap sucking at Michael’s cock, Michael on his knees feeding it to him, his jeans around his thighs. It looks tawdry, and Luke wears it well. He’s not particularly great at it, but he clearly wants it, taking more than he should and gagging himself on it, stretching his mouth open around Michael’s thick cock and swallowing down as much as he can. “Careful with the teeth,” he says, lightly tapping Luke’s cheek when he feels a little scrape. “Am I the first guy you’ve done this for?”

“Aw, fuck,” Calum says. He’s got his jeans pushed down Michael glances over at him, his hand wrapped around his cock stroking himself, still just teasing. Calum likes being teased, Michael remembers that. They never sucked each other off, too young and shy still when they were hooking up, but Michael remembers how he likes to be touched, what gets him off. It pleases him, knowing that. 

“Yeah, tell me how to do it,” Luke says, pulling off Michael’s cock and staring up at him. “You could fuck my mouth, I don’t think I’d mind that.”

“Gee, who would mind that?” Ashton mumbles. Michael doesn’t grant him the dignity of a stare-down. 

“I’ll start slow,” Michael promises, stroking Luke’s cheek and then guiding his cock back into Luke’s mouth, pushing it gently in and in, seeing how deeply Luke can take it. “Stroke the rest with your hand,” he says, and Luke obeys, gripping his cock at the base, seeming to take it as a challenge to get his mouth down far enough to meet his fingers. He gags a little but gamely keeps on even as his eyes tear up, as he gets sloppier, his mouth hot inside and slick with saliva. 

Michael takes it easy on him; it’s almost enough just watching Luke do it, Luke being willing and wanting, into Michael fucking his pretty face. He thrusts slow and as deep as Luke can handle it, eyes flicking over to check in on Calum jerking himself, Calum’s thighs spread, Ashton’s shoulders curled inward and his hand pressed to the front of his own jeans, clearly hard behind his fly. They’ll work on Ash. Group sex, Michael thinks to himself with an edge of delirium, is certainly a process. 

Luke’s starting to make little desperate noises around his cock, his rhythm gone jerky, little whines when Michael hits the back of his throat. Michael gasps when he realizes that Luke’s touching himself, his shoulder shifting as he works himself, and Michael’s hips go stuttery, thrusting harder, faster, and he barely manages a warning and push at Luke’s chest before he’s coming down Luke’s throat. 

Luke swallows as well as he can but still manages to start coughing near the shaking, desperate end of Michael’s orgasm. Michael manages an appreciative pat on his shoulder before he pulls back, sits on his heels and tries to get his breath again. He’s sweating and grateful for the room’s air conditioning. Also grateful for Luke, and for Luke’s mouth in particular, among his other parts that Michael generally has positive feelings about. 

“You swallowed, that’s good,” Ashton says faintly, like he hopes they won’t hear him but couldn’t not say it. He reaches over and awkwardly pats Luke’s hipbone. 

“What about me?” Calum says, a hint of a whine in it, not quite petulant but needy still. He’s more fucking his fist than stroking himself now, his other hand cupping his balls. 

“You know you look good touching yourself, Calum,” Ashton says, something dark in his tone, almost like a promise of punishment. Michael bites his lip, watching as Calum whimpers, grips himself tight and comes all over his fist and belly, white dripping down to pool on his tanned skin. 

“Fuck, please,” Luke says, openly whining now, desperation on his face as he strokes himself, already lying again on his back. He looks so good there, his legs spread open for Michael to sit between them, his skinny hips thrusting up. It makes Michael want to touch him, kiss him, give him anything and everything he’s begging for. “Please, Mikey,” he whimpers. 

Michael moves away only to finally kick his jeans off, to get between Luke’s spread thighs and take Luke’s needy cock into his mouth. He doesn’t bother teasing, just sucks Luke hard and deep, eager slurps of his tongue that makes Luke’s whole lower body jerk, trying to force more of his cock into Michael’s mouth. Michael doesn’t hesitate to take it, usually he likes to deepthroat half because he’s a show-off who enjoys being fawned over for it but right now Luke’s not in a position to notice much more than how good it feels, how close he is. His legs tremble beneath Michael’s stroking fingers, helpless little sounds like sobs breaking from his throat until he stutters out Michael’s name, starts to come. 

It’s no trouble at all for Michael to swallow, he’s had enough practice and Luke doesn’t taste so bad, almost sweet. Figures that Luke would smell like strawberries and taste almost as good as a girl too. Michael wants to swat him for it, push him around a bit to remind him not to get too cocky, but instead he just crawls up Luke’s body and folds himself into Luke’s open, waiting arms. 

“I’ll do you,” Calum says. “Just let me.” 

Michael and Luke both turn to look at them. In his state of blowjob focus Michael hadn’t noticed Ashton stripping his shirt off, or the apparent quiet wheedling that’s been happening on the other side of the bed. 

“But they’re watching,” Ashton says, low and clearly meant just for Calum, like they both can’t hear Ashton just as well.

“We just saw them blow each other, it’s fine,” Calum points out. Maybe it’s his reasonable tone that convinces Ashton or maybe he just decides to go for it, sitting up and winking at Michael as he crawls over. He strokes Ashton’s bare back, kisses his shoulder lightly even though it makes Ashton flinch a little, and moves to sit behind him, spooning up against Ashton’s hunched form. “Just let me,” Calum says, soft and soothing. He covers Ashton’s hand with his own where it’s cupped protectively over his cock in his pants, his jeans unzipped and open. 

Michael cuddles into Luke, content to watch them. Ashton’s always been deeply stealth about his romances, to the point where Michael’s not sure he’s ever seen Ashton even kiss anybody. It feels weirdly special, being allowed to watch this even if Calum had to coax him into it. Michael wonders just how much Calum has coaxed Ashton into over the years; he’s always been the best of them at working Ashton over, knowing what to say to him to get him to agree to stuff, how to drop enough hints so that Ashton will think that something-or-other that Calum wants has been Ashton’s own idea all along. It’s a skill.

As is jacking Ashton off, evidently, and it seems to be one Calum has mastered. Ashton’s relaxed into Calum’s arms, his eyes slipped shut, head tilted back against Calum’s shoulder. Calum takes such care with him, kissing his throat lightly, his fist tight on Ashton’s thick cock, thumb passing over the head in rough little circles on every upstroke. Ashton doesn’t make much noise, but he grips Calum’s wrist hard when he finally starts to come, spattering Calum’s fingers and the top blanket with it. 

When Ashton flutters his eyelids open it’s to Michael and Luke both staring at him, and he doesn’t look away. 

-

It’s not the first time Michael’s woken up in a sweaty tangle of dudes, these dudes in particular, but the nakedness is pretty new. Also sweaty. The nakedness makes it all sweatier than usual, as does the proximity. Luke’s in his arms and Calum’s squished up close to Luke, with Ashton lying close enough to Calum that Michael could reach over and touch him. They’ve done some gay shit in the past but this is definitely the gayest. Michael’s into it, even though it’s pretty clear that they could all use a shower. Maybe a collective one. 

It probably hadn’t been strictly necessary for them to all unwind with a couple rounds of shots after all the sexy times, but Calum had brought it up and it seemed like a better idea than all shuffling downstairs to the hotel chapel to make honest dudes out of each other. Michael had made that suggestion expecting laughter but everyone seemed to take it sort of seriously and then Luke had kissed him again and clung to him, and well. There were only so many gay revelations they could have in one night. Michael’s not hungover but his sweat sort of smells like gin. Or maybe it’s Luke’s sweat. 

He sniffs at Luke and the tickle of his nose against Luke’s shoulder makes Luke stir with a grumble. As usual, Luke doesn’t smell too bad. Michael gives his skin a little lick to check him out taste-wise and that’s pretty nice too. 

Luke seems to aim for, “Stop,” but he doesn’t really open his mouth enough so it’s more of a punctuated whine. Michael kisses him softly, tasting the lightly sunburned heat of his shoulder, and Luke just rolls further into him, trying to hide from Michael’s mouth in the unclever hiding place that is Michael’s chest. His movements stir Calum, who blinks his eyes blearily open at Michael, squints at him in mild confusion and then rolls over, bumping into Ashton, who mumbles something inaudible, his eyes still shut, and slips an arm around Calum’s back, pulling him close. He blindly presses a kiss to Calum’s eyebrow, and Calum fits an arm around his waist and settles into place.

Michael smiles vaguely at nobody and falls back to sleep.

-

The next wake-up is not as pleasant, spurred by Ashton startling awake and then yelling once he sees that nobody managed to set their phone alarm for the morning’s bus call, but at least, Michael thinks as he falls on the floor attempting to tug his jeans on in record time, nobody had time enough to feel awkward.

-

In retrospect they probably could have all managed to just crowd into a shower together to rinse off, but mistakes were made and now no one’s really as daisy fresh as they could be. It’s a long drive to the next venue in San Antonio, and Michael spends it feeling sort of salt-crusted. Calum crawls into his bunk complaining about a hangover and Ashton stares pointedly enough at his laptop with his enormous headphones on that Michael doesn’t bother trying to engage. He’d probably just say something inappropriate about Ashton’s excellent dick anyway, and then Ashton would get all moody about the possibility of someone overhearing. Some people are just so fussy about dick compliments. 

He sticks close to Luke because Luke is there to be stuck close to and doesn’t seem to mind, not even when Michael presses close and complains, “How come you always smell nice? Do you rub Ashton’s candles into your armpits or something?”

“I rub them all over myself,” Luke says, not looking up from the game he’s playing on his phone. “I like to smell like vanilla and ocean breezes.”

Michael frowns at him, not a hundred percent sure that he’s really joking. Luke does smell kind of ocean-y. It’s nice. 

He lays his head on Luke’s shoulder and takes a nap. 

-

“Shower,” Luke says, tugging at Michael’s hand as they walk to the venue, Michael still squinting in the sunlight after the dim, cool interior of the bus. Michael doesn’t want a shower. He’s gotten used to himself. He accepts his natural manly scent. 

“Snuggles and snacking,” Michael counteroffers. He could go for some candy. Maybe if he looks pitiful enough Luke will let him sprawl across his lap and then he’ll feed Michael Skittles like a sexy manservant. 

“ _Shower_ ,” Luke says insistently. He squeezes Michael’s hand hard. Michael’s just about to get insulted when he properly takes in the look on Luke’s face, so wide-eyed and waggly-eyebrowed that he might as well be holding a neon sign flashing “I’LL TOUCH YOUR DICK” over his head. Yes, okay. Michael forgets about Skittles. 

With extra clothes in hand they shuffle off to the showers as soon as they can, Michael stuffing his face with Cheetos since Luke denied him snacktime. He’ll just have to eat Luke up as a chaser. 

He’s eyeing Luke’s shoulder as the future site of his first nibble when they get into the big change room, packed with lockers for visiting sports teams. Luke pauses and gestures ahead of them, points out, “Gang showers.”

“Gangbang showers,” Michael parries, going in for the nibble now that the door’s swung shut behind him. He nuzzles at Luke’s still exasperatingly pleasant-smelling shoulder, then bites down a little. Luke makes a noise like he’s neutral on the whole idea, but Michael can see the flush rising up his throat, can feel it even when he nudges closer and kisses Luke’s jaw. “You’re so filthy,” he says, hot and close against Luke’s ear, and Luke shivers, leans back into him. “You want that, huh? All of us to gangbang your ass?”

“Fuck,” Luke says, soft, hoarse. Michael doesn’t have much more patience for lingering around talking about it, not when they could be getting to the sex fucking. He pushes Luke forward, his hands already seeking under Luke’s singlet to guide it upwards, get him nice and naked, and Luke goes willingly, stripping as they head for the showers. 

They’re not in there long, naked and with the showers running hot to steam the place up, when the door swings open with a creak and slam, followed by Ashton yelling out, “You guys better not be getting up to any R-rated activities here. I don’t want to see any erections swinging about when I’m trying to shower in peace.”

“I’ll show you an erection,” Calum offers, his voice muffled as they come around the bank of lockers. 

Luke looks down at his own hard cock, his hand pausing in its stroking attentions to Michael’s dick. Michael shrugs and thrusts into his fist. 

“I’ve seen your erection,” Ashton says to Calum as they appear around the corner, already getting their shirts off, “and as your friend I know it’s not cool to insult you about it, even jokingly. You have a nice penis. Don’t touch me,” he yelps, ducking away when Calum goes for his throat, probably for kisses. 

“Hide your dicks,” Calum announces, letting Ashton manhandle him away from his neck and toward the showers. He shucks his pants and tosses them onto the bench next to Luke and Michael’s clothes, then bounds in to join them. 

“Don’t run in the shower, you’ll slip and fall and die,” Ashton scolds him, glaring at all of them as he folds his jeans and sets them down. 

Michael grabs Luke around the waist, pulling him back in from where he’d been turning a few more showerheads on to get them warmed up for Cal and Ash. Michael loves that Luke is so sweet and thoughtful, really he does, but he also loves Luke’s cute little ass and right now he wants to feel it up. Luke squirms in his arms a bit but then settles as Michael pulls him close under the hot spray of water, slips a hand down to tease at the tangle of wet curls at the base of Luke’s cock. 

“What did I say about erections?” Ashton demands, joining them in the shower, his fancy shampoo dangling from his fingers. Michael raises his eyebrows and gives Ashton’s cock a very significant once-over. Ashton’s already half-hard. Michael wants a better look, maybe up close and personal since that seems to be what they’re doing now.

Michael gives Luke’s cock a proper fondle, thrusting between his ass cheeks as Luke groans and leans back against him. “I’m trying to hide mine,” Michael says, fucking his hips obviously forward while flashing a lewd grin at Ashton, who flushes pink and ducks his head under the shower spray. 

“Are you guys fucking already?” Calum asks. He looks jealous, frowning at them before he closes his eyes to rinse the shampoo out of his hair, water and suds cascading down his body. Not that Michael hasn’t noticed before how good he looks, but it’s been awhile since he’s seen Calum naked in a sexual context. He’s changed a lot since they were fifteen. Michael gets his fill of staring, still gently jerking Luke off, angling them so the water runs down between their tucked-together bodies. The water sluices over Luke’s back, making it an easy slide as Michael grinds against him. 

“Are you and Ashton fucking?” Luke asks. Michael pauses his stroking. Despite currently being within a fingertip’s distance of touching them, Michael’s still surprised at the balls Luke has. 

“Yeah, sometimes,” Calum says. He looks over at Ashton. “I wouldn’t recommend doing it in the shower though.”

Ashton groans. “I slipped, okay? You try thrusting that hard and keeping your balance at the same time.” He runs his fingers through his wet hair, slicking it back. “I said I was sorry, anyway,” he says, so quietly it’s almost lost beneath the constant patter of water hitting the tile floor, the drains gurgling.

Calum reaches out to him, brushes his knuckles over the jutting curve of Ashton’s hipbone, and Ashton looks down at where he’s touching, looks back up at Calum through his eyelashes.

“If you guys wanna fuck or whatever, it’s not a problem,” Michael says, just in case they need to hear it. They both look at him, and he shrugs, cups the needy length of Luke’s cock in his hand as he clings close to Luke, nuzzling his neck. Luke rolls his head back onto Michael’s shoulder, giving him more throat to kiss, looking sideways at him. Feeling brave, he adds, “With or without us. It’s not a big deal. It’s just…banding.” 

“I think we band differently than other people,” Ashton says. He sounds slightly hysterical, and he’s staring down at his now fully hard cock like it’s betrayed him in some way. Michael thrusts a little harder between Luke’s cheeks, turned on by the sight of it, how they make Ashton lose control. Calum’s into it too, watching them, staring down at their hips tucked together as he curls a hand around his own cock, giving the hard length of it a stroke. 

“Mikey,” Luke says, slips his hand back to squeeze Michael’s hip, bring him even closer. He’s starting to work his hips, not just thrusting into Michael’s grip but rubbing his ass back against Michael’s dick too. It makes Michael want things, to still him, to pin him down and take control, push properly inside him. He wants to fuck Luke, badly. He wants to find out how much louder he can make Luke moan. 

Luke slumps against him, his feet set wider apart on the slick tile so they’re the same height, so he can just lean back and let himself be taken care of. Michael gives him what he needs, lets Luke thrust into his hand and concentrates on himself for a moment, reaching down to spread Luke open, watch the wet push of his cock sliding between the hot cheeks of his ass, feeling the catch and give of his hole. 

The romantic in him wants to wait, get Luke somewhere nice with soft sheets and screamo ballads, but the pure sensation of it is making Michael waver on that front, the steamy air around them and the taste of Luke’s wet skin making it hard to focus on anything but the need for more. More heat, more tightness than just the cling of Luke’s ass cheeks to his thrusting cock, Luke’s moaning and Michael wants to feel that from the inside, feel Luke’s body shudder and clench on his cock. He can’t help himself, licking and sucking at Luke’s neck, thrusting harder as Luke digs his fingers into his hip, rubs his ass back against Michael’s dick. 

Michael looks up, having forgotten however briefly that they were alone, and meets Calum’s eyes staring back at him, at both of them. Luke clearly never forgot he was being watched; he fucks Michael’s fist like he’s being paid for the show, his back arched, thighs spread, hips angling up to display the flushed length of his cock every time he thrusts through. 

“Come kiss him,” Michael says, the words out of his mouth before he even really thinks about them. Luke deserves kisses, and it’s almost painful how hungry Calum looks watching them both, like he needs this just as much as Luke does.

“Please,” Luke says, agreement enough for Calum to step closer with Ashton trailing him unconsciously, not letting him go too far away. Calum doesn’t wait for further instruction, just moves into their space, slips his hands around Luke’s waist to touch Michael’s skin too, and kisses Luke hard. 

It leaves Michael and Ashton staring at each other, Michael still working himself against Luke’s ass, perilously close to coming already with all the heat and excitement. He’s always loved trying new things, new people, the electric thrill of exploration humming beneath his skin. He’s never been with this many people at once, never more than one guy at a time. He’s never done anything like this with anyone as close to him as the guys are, his best friends, his band. That should make it terrifying and it does, a little, but that just adds to it. The risk. They’re all jumping out of a plane into the unknown but at least they’re together, going into this with each other. 

Ashton reaches out, runs his knuckles down the wet skin of Michael’s arm, his other hand guiding Calum forward further so his cock bumps against Michael’s fingers on Luke’s dick. “Both of them,” Ashton says, somewhere between a suggestion and a gentle demand. Michael doesn’t even think about refusing, his fingers uncurling to get hold of Calum too, Luke and Calum’s cocks held thick and close in his grip. It makes them both moan, Luke’s cock already jerking eagerly in his hand and then pulsing hot, Luke whimpering and biting at Calum’s lower lip as he comes over Michael’s fist.

Calum swears, his cock slipping in Michael’s suddenly slicker grip, bracing himself on Luke’s shoulders as he thrusts clumsily into Michael’s fist, Ashton’s hand cupping his ass to guide him. Luke’s still trembling a little, leant back up against Michael, when Calum comes, Michael aiming his cock so it stripes all over Luke’s belly, washed just as quickly away by the pounding water. Michael’s sorry to see it go; Luke wears come well. 

Luke looks up at him, eyes lidded and lashes fluttering. “You too,” he says, bumping his chin against Michael’s jaw, nuzzling his nose against Michael’s cheek. His mouth touches Michael’s skin but not in much of a kiss, his faculties all too gone for that, nothing left in him but limp appreciation and cuddles. 

Michael shifts enough to press a proper kiss to his cheek, grips Luke’s hips hard and moves against him with determination, his cock almost aching it’s been so long. He looks down between their bodies but can feel Ashton’s eyes on him, staring him down. He’s not sure what Ashton wants, probably just to give him another order. Michael would follow it, too. They’ve always pretty much fallen in line with what Ashton told them to do, even if they feel the need to get bratty about it first. It just feels good to do what Ashton says. 

He lets himself look up and Ashton’s right there, biting his lip like he enjoys looking at Michael. Michael can’t help but come against Luke’s back. 

It takes him a minute to get his bearings, comes back to himself rubbing over Luke’s tummy, watching his come spattered over Luke’s lower back wash away. He’s pressed close enough to feel the rumble of Luke’s voice when he asks, “What do you need, Ash?”

“Your mouth,” Ashton grits out, his hand on his cock holding it out like a gift. 

Luke goes to his knees almost gracefully, looks up at Ashton through wet eyelashes and opens his mouth. 

Left alone and uncuddled, Michael reaches out for Calum. He gets more than the naked hug he was expecting. Calum kisses him softly, an almost lazy press of lips to match the slow exploration of his hands on Michael’s body, stroking over his shoulders, down to get a handful of his ass and bring him close. They haven’t kissed in years. Calum’s gotten better at it, less of the sloppy eagerness he had when they first tried it, thirteen and curious, wanting everything but clueless as to how to get it. Michael cups Calum’s cheek and kisses him back, grateful for the second chance to know Calum this way. Of course Luke would know what they all needed, the little smartass.

Michael breaks away from the kiss at the rough sound of Luke gagging, his shoulders shaking as he pulls back from Ashton’s cock, choking on come. Luke doesn’t let Ashton’s cock go, though, still stroking it so Ashton’s come stripes his cheek, his collarbone, his chest. It’s a picture. Michael wishes he had his phone handy to capture it. Maybe Luke will let him make some porn later. 

“Nice,” Calum says, clearly appreciating the sight as much as Michael is. Luke ducks his head, looking embarrassed but pleased, and Michael can’t help but feel hopelessly enamoured with him. Lucky he gets to hit that; they’re all fucking lucky. Michael’s about to have feelings all over everything if someone doesn’t get him a towel and some Skittles as soon as possible. 

“I’m hungry,” Michael whines. 

Ashton gives him an impatient look, one hand held out to help Luke back up to his feet. “You’re always hungry,” he says, but gathers his things, snagging Calum’s body wash when he strolls out forgetting to grab it. 

“I’m hungry too,” Luke says. His voice is a bit hoarse, which is just great seeing as though they have a concert and everything. There needs to be a discussion about limits pretty soon if Luke’s gonna keep just doing whatever everyone tells him to do. 

“You people and your appetites,” Ashton says. He guides them all out, his hand on Luke’s shoulder. He gives it a little squeeze, and Luke smiles at him. 

“You love our appetites,” Michael says, blowing him a kiss when Ashton looks back at him. Michael wiggles his hips so his cock bounces at Ashton, his grin wide and dirty. 

“Yeah, well,” Ashton huffs, and swats Michael’s bare ass with a rolled up towel, a stinging hit that makes him yelp.

-

Michael spends the afternoon entertaining himself by lying all over Luke and making eyes at Ashton and Calum until they pile on top of him. It’s not the first time Michael’s flirtations have been taken as an act of war and responded to accordingly. He takes advantage of the position to grope as many dicks as possible while still being stealthy about it, which fails because Ashton shrieks when Michael slips and accidentally grips him a little too hard. Whoops. 

The show goes well and they tumble offstage like excited puppies afterwards. Michael knows he’s not the only one who can’t stop thinking about it, what they all did in the shower. This could work, probably, all of them together. There’ll be kinks to work out - and to work in, heh heh - but he thinks they can make it happen. Group sex. Four-way marriage. A bandogamous relationship. He hasn’t been a great boyfriend, classically, but he knows how to be a good friend and he’s excellent at sex. 

The biggest issue he can see is Ashton, and no, he doesn’t mean Ashton’s penis. He can’t see that, currently, though he takes a casual glance at Ashton’s lap area as he sidles into the back lounge where Ashton’s sitting alone after bus call. Ashton looks up at him, keeps his eyes trained on Michael until Michael’s sat down on the couch across from him, crossing his legs, folding his hands on one knee.

“So, Ashton,” Michael says, giving Ashton his best perky grin. “How are you feeling?” 

“Fine,” Ashton says, his voice thick with suspicion. “Why? Did you break something of mine?” He pauses. “Did you break Calum or Luke?”

“No, they’re playing XBOX,” Michael tells him. He chooses to let Ashton’s assumption of his clumsiness pass without comment, but can’t help but ask, “Do they count as something of yours?”

Ashton gives him a sulky look, his shoulders pulled inward. “Yes,” he mumbles. “You’re all mine to look after.”

Michael leans forward, then gets up entirely and plants himself down next to Ashton, throwing a casual arm around Ashton’s shoulders. “And you do a very good job of taking care of all of us.”

“Don’t mock me,” Ashton says, squirming in Michael’s grip. Michael tightens it, squeezing Ashton’s shoulder and moving in to rub his nose against Ashton’s cheek. Ashton grumbles about it, but lets him, even though he wrinkles his nose up like he doesn’t like it. But he does like it, Michael knows all about his tricks, his protestations for the sake of it. 

“I’m not mocking you,” Michael says. He pulls Ashton closer, their thighs pressed together between them. The moment feels delicate. He wants to get this right. He’s never been much for knowing the right thing to say, always been better at just listening, letting his boys work out their problems by talking them out. “We know how you feel about us,” he says carefully. “Mostly.”

“I love you guys,” Ashton says instantly, no hesitation even though his voice is soft, quiet. He doesn’t look at Michael, just stares at his lap instead, picking at the seam of his jeans. “You know that.”

Michael reaches over slowly, stills Ashton’s hand on his thigh. He rubs at Ashton’s knuckles with his fingertips, and Ashton sighs. “You can have this,” Michael tells him. “It’s okay. It won’t screw anything up.”

“It could screw _everything_ up,” Ashton says, finally looking him in the eye. “Then what will we be?”

“Very sexually experienced?” Michael offers. It’s dumb but true, and it makes Ashton laugh, anyway, which was all Michael was going for. He sways to the side, nudging against Ashton. “Come on, Ash. If you love us so much, prove it with your dick.”

“Oh god,” Ashton says, putting his head in his hands. “I can’t believe I want to have sex with you.”

“I knew it,” Michael crows, letting Ashton go so he can raise his arms in victory. “Let’s make out, Luke said I’m the best kisser he’s ever had.”

“No he didn’t,” Ashton says, which is true, he didn’t, but Michael knows he’s an amazing kisser so whatever, he totally could have said it. 

“Shut up, come here,” Michael tells him. He pulls Ashton back in, and it feels like being sixteen again, having the lightest, silliest of crushes on their cute new drummer, practically throwing himself at Ashton as Calum and Luke became minorly obsessed with each other. It feels good, getting something he wanted, makes him want it all over again. He has Luke, he’s had Calum. Now he’ll have Ash too, they’ll all have each other. This four-way marriage is going to rule. 

“You shut up,” Ashton says. He sets his hand to Michael’s chest and pushes him back, then down, following him so that Michael’s on his back for their first kiss, waiting for Ashton to lean in. And he does, of course, kissing Michael sweetly when he gets there. He knows just what Michael needs, he’s so good at taking care of them. 

-

“Did you guys fuck back there?” Calum asks when they emerge from the back lounge. He’s watching TV on the couch, Luke lying down with his head on Calum’s lap. How I Met Your Mother is on, which means it was probably Luke’s choice. 

Michael runs a hand through his hair. It was just kissing, but it was good kissing, and Michael tends to look wrecked pretty easily. It’s something he kind of enjoys about himself. He wears sex hair well. 

“What’s your obsession with fucking?” Ashton asks Calum. “There are other acts.”

Calum shrugs. “It feels good getting fucked.” He gives Ashton a wicked grin. “Wanna find out for yourself?”

Luke sits up a bit and stares at them. “Wait, you didn’t fuck, did you? You weren’t back there very long.”

“No, we didn’t,” Michael says, pleased by Luke’s assumption of his stamina. That’s right, he could go for hours. Or at least he could go for awhile and then come and then go again, until he gets tired or hungry. He’s usually down for a sex marathon. Add pizza and a few seasons of The Walking Dead and it’s pretty much his idea of a perfect day. 

“Good,” Luke says, settling back on Calum’s lap. 

“Are you possessive of my dick already?” Michael asks, delighted. He pitches himself onto the couch, landing on Luke and making him yell. He ignores Luke’s struggling, pinning him down for cuddles until Luke stops kicking and huffs out a sigh. “Don’t worry,” he coos at Luke, squirming on top of him. “I’ll fuck you first, baby.” He means for it to come out joking, but Luke moans. Michael licks his throat, and when Luke just sighs into it, he bites down, sucking gently. 

“If you guys are gonna make out all over me instead of watching the show I’m putting on Stepbrothers,” Calum says. 

“Ooh, put that on anyway,” Ashton says. He sits on Calum’s other side, and Michael looks up to Ashton slipping an arm around Calum’s shoulder, Calum smiling at him and snuggling in. 

“This makeout better be worth it,” Luke mutters, then groans as Michael pointedly circles his hips, grinding their dicks together through their jeans.

“I’m always worth it,” pouts Michael. Luke kisses him, the best kind of agreement.

\- 

New Orleans is humid and gross and beautiful. There’ve been rumblings about sight-seeing since they have the day off, visiting Bourbon Street and buying some beads to throw at Luke to make him strip and dance, but mostly the only sights Michael wants to see are dicks. Not like any dicks, specific ones. His best friends’ dicks. 

“We should stay in and fuck all afternoon,” Michael suggests, bumping his suitcase against Luke’s as they roll through the hotel lobby.

“We’re going out for lunch,” Ashton says. It’s not a bad suggestion, Michael likes Southern food and he could go for a po-boy even though it’s not exactly the meat he had in mind. 

“I wanna fuck,” Luke mumbles. He looks awfully pitiful about the lack of dicks in him. 

“I’ll fuck you,” Calum offers. Michael’s eyes narrow into a glare without him even thinking about it. “I’ll fuck you too,” Calum tells Michael. “I’ll fuck everybody.”

“Lunch first,” Ashton says severely. “We need to discuss things before we go any further.”

Michael lets his mind drift back from thoughts about Calum fucking him, how he’d probably like it and definitely intends to try it. Also the reverse. He wants all the dicks to go everywhere they can go. He’s so horny that he’d fuck his suitcase right now if it told him he was pretty. “Are you asking us all on a _date_?” Michael demands. 

“Shut up,” Ashton hisses, but he’s blushing a little. He’s totally just asked them all out on a collective date. 

“Does that mean you’re going to pay?” asks Calum. 

“For god’s sake,” Ashton says. 

-

They’re halfway through the fried zucchini appetizer and Michael’s to the ankle-entwining portion of the game of footsie he’s been playing with Luke when Ashton says, “I’m not going to call you all my boyfriends.”

“Life partners is fine,” Michael says. He dips a zucchini stick into marinara sauce and feeds it into Luke’s open mouth, shoving it in so Luke chokes on it a little and then tries to bite at his fingers. Then he licks at Michael’s fingertips, gazes at him through his eyelashes, and slips a sneaky hand down to squeeze at his thigh. Michael squirms. 

“I like bros with benefits,” says Calum. 

“I’m not calling anyone my bro with benefits,” Luke says with half a mouthful of fried zucchini. Michael loves him so much. “You’re all my boyfriends, I don’t care what you call me.”

Ashton sighs very heavily and takes the last onion ring from the tower. Michael giggles because he ordered only food that looks like dicks and nobody else has noticed yet, not even the jalapeno poppers and zucchini stick configuration on his plate that looks like a cock and balls. He’s such an underappreciated genius. “Well, we can’t tell anyone we’re doing this. Can we agree on that?”

“I don’t have any plans to ever tell anyone I’m doing anything that involves another person touching my dick,” Calum says. “Everyone gets too mean on Twitter about it.”

“That’s a fair point, we’re pretty private people already,” Luke points out. “We all call each other babe anyway, it’s not like it’ll be noticeable if we slip up.”

“Well, we should agree to be, like,” Ashton leans forward, lowering his voice to a whisper even though the whole conversation’s been pretty incriminating already, “monogamous. For safety reasons.”

“I’m honestly too lazy to even look around for one person, I think I’ll be full up with three,” Michael says. Luke giggles dirtily next to him. “Shut up,” Michael says, elbowing him. “If anyone’s gonna be full up, it’s you, you instigator.”

“Promise?” Luke asks. He gives Michael a sultry look, and it lands even with a little bit of marinara sauce on his lip. Michael slumps down further in his seat, adjusting his cock in his pants. 

“You’ve become a total freak,” Calum says, looking impressed. “I’m proud of you, Lucas.”

“Thanks!” Luke says, giving him a chipper smile. 

“Well,” Ashton says. He lays his hand in the center of the table. “I think we should all agree that if we’re going to do this, we need to be honest with each other. We can’t hide stuff from each other.” Calum sneaks a hand close to his, and Ashton swallows, looks over at him and turns his palm up. Calum takes his hand and squeezes it with a small smile. 

“Can we hide stuff in each other?” Michael asks. He leans close, patting Ashton and Calum’s entwined hands. “I mean our dicks,” he whispers. 

“Yeah,” Luke says. He puts his hand over all of theirs. “I wanna hide my dick in you guys too.” He looks them all in the eye in turn, his gaze wide-eyed with sincerity and romance. Biting his lip, he adds, “Because I love you. All of you.” 

“This is beautiful,” says Calum. He sounds like he means it. “I love all of you too.”

They all echo him, trading I love yous, and then their entrees come and they eat too much gumbo. 

Ashton does end up paying the bill. 

-

On the way back to the hotel Michael’s sweaty with nerves and half-hard with excitement and both of the feelings feed off each other. This is it, this is planned. It’s officially thrusting o’clock on the band schedule and like, not that they haven’t already done stuff before - great stuff, even - but this is like, the honeymoon. They’ve done everything but get it in and now they’re going to, and Michael’s not freaking out about it or anything, but he does want Luke’s introduction to the world of ass-fucking to be so legendary that he’s panting for Michael’s dick 24/7 from here on out. Also this has apparently been Luke’s big sex fantasy/romantic life goal for ages now, and he’s finally getting what he wants. So, no pressure on himself, or anybody else. 

The elevator dinging at their floor startles Michael enough to make him jump, and they all stare at him, Ashton raising an eyebrow before he leads Calum out with a hand on his lower back. The two of them seem to have it pretty together, annoyingly enough. Of course, they’re not feeling any pressure regarding any eager, sweet, innocent blue-eyed virgins with low thresholds for pain who might cry. Oh, jesus fuck. 

“Hey,” Luke says, pushing Michael back against the elevator wall when he tries to move. He leans in and kisses Michael softly, sweetly. “I love you, thank you,” he says quietly. His eyes are huge this close, wide and sincere. When he brushes his knuckles over Michael’s cheek, his hand trembles a little. 

Michael suddenly doesn’t feel so nervous about being a terrible fuck. It’s not like Luke will know the difference, right? Also, Luke loves him, and though the thought makes Michael roll his eyes at himself for being a big romantic loser, he knows from experience that sex with someone you love is generally pretty awesome, just because of feelings and whatever. And Michael has a lot of feelings. “I love you too,” he says quickly, needing to say it again even though Luke’s already heard it, already knows. Luke smiles, bright and clear, and only turns away to catch the elevator door before it slides back closed. 

He takes Michael’s hand and they race to catch up to Ashton and Calum, who’ve already opened the door to Ashton’s room. That’s a fine choice, he definitely has candles if they want to fancy this experience up. Michael pauses at the doorway, surprised to see a big-ass bed, bigger than the rest of theirs. “I put in a request for a California king room,” Ashton says, off his look. He looks a little abashed about it. “I wasn’t sure they’d have anything, but I thought it would be nice for us all. We’re large boys,” he says, a bit defensively. 

“You’re such a thoughtful boyfriend,” Calum coos at him. He’s already got his shirt stripped off, and he’s going for his jeans. Luke, seeing his increasingly naked state, rushes eagerly over to join him. Then he accidentally knocks Calum onto the bed in his quest to herd him onto it, and they undress each other while also lightly tussling until Luke’s naked and Calum rolls them over, pinning him down and kissing him. 

“Shut up,” says Ashton. He kicks off his shoes, stiffening automatically and then relaxing when Michael prowls over and goes for his belt, taking over from him undoing it. 

“What do you prefer, if not boyfriends?” Michael asks, tugging Ashton closer by his belt buckle. He works Ashton’s belt open, pushes his pants down at the same as he shoves his jeans down. Ashton’s dick springs out like it’s saying hello, already almost completely hard. 

“Partner sounds nice,” Ashton mumbles, looking sheepish about it. “Stop looking at me, take your clothes off,” he says, defaulting to bossiness as usual, and then he just does the work himself, pushing his hands under Michael’s shirt to feel at his bare waist, push his singlet up. 

“Do you have lube?” Michael asks, because he’s not getting any nakeder if he has to run to his room and get his, and he needs to know right now because Luke’s already moaning on the bed and Michael’s not the cause of his moans and okay, maybe he’s a bit possessive, whatever. 

Affronted, Ashton says, “Of course I have lube, you think I’d get a huge bed and not have lube? I plan ahead, Michael.”

“Thank god,” Michael says. He takes over when Ashton hesitates at his waistband. He can unzip his own damn jeans if Ashton’s going to dawdle about it. The time for a sexuality crisis was days ago and now it’s time to man up and face the dicks. Ashton just watches him get his pants down like a big weirdo, he even gulps when he sees Michael’s cock, thick and hard and more than ready for the proceedings to begin. “It’s not just for looks, you know, you can touch it,” Michael says, stepping out of his jeans and closer to Ashton. Their dicks bump gently against each other as if in greeting. 

“Guys,” Luke whines from the bed. He’s sprawled out on his back when they look over, Calum on top of him sucking at his throat. Luke extends an arm toward them like he’s reaching across a battlefield for home. 

“Come on, let’s tend to our partners,” Michael tells Ashton, leaning in to steal a quick kiss before Ashton squawks at him for the totally fair mockery. 

Calum goes for Ashton as soon as they both climb on the bed so Michael lets himself fall into Luke’s open arms, happily accepting Luke’s kisses. Their bodies fit together easily, perfectly, Luke spreading his legs so Michael can lie between them, his hands stroking down Michael’s back, reaching to cup his ass so he can grind up against him. There’s so much he wants to do to Luke, with Luke. His heart pounds with the excitement of it, arousal and anticipation and pure need. 

“What do you wanna do?” he asks when he pulls back from Luke’s kisses, sliding a hand up Luke’s forearm to gently grip his wrist, moving further up to grasp his hand. He has a good idea, but he wants to hear Luke say it. Let it never be said that Michael doesn’t appreciate dirty talk and even a bit of begging. 

“I want you to fuck me,” Luke says instantly. “Want you to be the first.”

Michael licks his lips, thrusts down against Luke, loving the hot friction of his cock dragging against the hollow of Luke’s hip. Conscious of Calum and Ashton next to them, holding each other and kissing, he quietly asks, “The first tonight?”

“Maybe,” Luke says. His cheeks are already so flushed, his eyes so bright, he looks fuck-drunk and they’ve barely started. Michael just can’t get enough of him, never wants to. 

“Ash,” Calum says next to them. Michael tears his eyes away from Luke so he can look at them again, at Ashton holding Calum so close, more tenderly than he would have ever expected to see Ashton behave with one of them, with anyone. “I want you to fuck me,” he says to Ashton. “I want them to see.”

“Yeah,” Ashton says, nodding into the hollow of Calum’s throat like he can’t bear to move so far away just yet. “Okay, we can do that.”

“Fucking for everyone,” Michael says lightly. He tickles at Luke’s sides, making him squirm and break into giggles, and the sound of it makes Calum laugh too. Calum reaches over to nudge at Michael’s shoulder, and Michael crosses his eyes and sticks out his tongue, a funny face just to make Calum smile. It works, and Michael loves him, he can’t help himself. He never could, it just feels too good to love Calum. He shimmies over a little so he can plant a sloppy kiss on Calum’s cheek and then a real one on Calum’s mouth, Calum arching up into it as Ashton gives them a little space. 

“It’s a good thing I’m not the jealous type,” Ashton mutters, so Michael gives his sulky mouth a big kiss too, nibbling at his lower lip and making him hiss and bite back. 

“Well, I am,” Luke says, tugging Michael back over to his side. “I wanna get fucked.”

“Impatient,” Calum says. He stretches out under Ashton in a leisurely fashion, like a handsome cat. 

“I’ve wanted this for years,” Luke complains. “I’ve been _sad_.” He turns his big blue mournful gaze on all of them, always completely shameless in the service of getting his way. He’s a ridiculous person, but he’s Michael’s ridiculous person. He’s all of theirs.

“Alright, alright, stop panting for my dick,” Michael says. “Where’s your lube?” he asks Ashton, then turns back to Luke. “Actually, you can keep panting for my dick. It’s hot.”

Luke licks his lips and stares blatantly at Michael’s hard cock, then gives in and reaches for it. He tugs like he’s trying to jerk Michael off, but it’s actually just him trying to drag Michael back by his dick as he reaches for the lube Ashton’s handing him. “How do you want me?” Luke asks, once Michael’s moved back between his spread thighs, getting his fingers slicked up, rubbing them together to warm them. Michael’s cock jerks hearing Luke talk like that, seeing the wicked little quirk of his mouth that means he knows exactly the effect he’s having on Michael right now. Yeah, innocent, sure. He wants to fuck the naughty smile off Luke’s face, leave nothing there but slack satisfaction. 

“I like you on your back,” Michael tells him. He pets Luke’s cock, takes it lightly in hand and rubs over the sensitive spot beneath the head, making Luke’s hips twitch so he obligingly lifts them, his thighs spread wide, ass up so Michael can see all of him.

“Come on, I want it,” Luke says, shifting a little, reaching both hands down to touch himself, cupping his ass cheeks and spreading himself open, making his little virgin hole gape for Michael’s fingers. It’s too much, Luke making such a show of himself; Michael gives him what he’s begging for, strokes his fingertips over Luke’s needy little hole and then pushes his middle finger right in. 

“Jesus,” Calum says, watching them. Michael slants his eyes to the side, lets himself briefly appreciate the sight of Calum on his belly with his ass up, Ashton already giving him a nice fingerfucking to get him ready. Michael’s gonna use this newfound spirit of group honesty later to make Calum tell him every detail of what he and Ash have secretly been up to all these months (years?), because Calum seems awfully familiar with Ashton’s fingers inside him. At least judging by the way he’s already fucking himself back onto them, practically bouncing his ass on three of Ashton’s thick fingers buried in him. 

“More,” Luke whimpers, pushing his ass back onto Michael’s fingers like it’s a competition, Calum and Ashton’s movements something to match. Michael strokes at his inner thigh, a soothing pet as he works another finger in. Luke’s so slick, desperate for it, that it’s easy, a smooth slide without him clenching up scared. Michael wonders if Luke’s done this to himself before, thinking about them this way. He hopes he has. Maybe Luke would let Michael watch him do it. 

Calum swears next to them, and Michael can hear it, the slick push of Ashton fucking his way into Calum’s ass. He can’t help looking and Luke can’t either, sitting up on his elbows to try and see, watching Calum’s hot little asshole stretch open to take Ashton’s cock in. Ashton’s so big, it must burn taking that much, but Calum just looks gone for it, his cheeks red, mouth dropped open with his face pressed to the sheets as he takes what Ashton’s giving to him. 

“Does it hurt?” Luke asks, reaching over to curl his fingers around Calum’s wrist, looking at him with so much need, his little hole clenching between his legs as Michael slides his fingers out to stroke over it, getting him nice and wet.

“Yeah, it’s awesome,” Calum pants. He squeezes his eyes shut tight, groaning as Ashton bottoms out. It’s so hot, watching Calum shift to get used to it, his best friend stuck on a cock and loving it. Michael grabs the lube back, fumbles with it to get more and stroke his own cock wet. He’s scared again, momentarily, tasked with pleasing Luke this way, hoping he’ll be able to last. Luke’s so hot inside, felt so tight on his fingers. Michael’s heart beats fast wanting everything, for all of this to be perfect. 

Luke shifts back against him, squirms closer to drape his thighs over Michael, his ass up so Michael can get inside him. “Please, do it,” Luke begs, his voice low, scraped raw with need, “I want it, I want you.” Michael swallows, dips his fingers in again quick just to make sure he’s nice and open before he takes them away, gets his cock in his hand and rubs the leaking head over Luke’s soft, hot hole, smearing it white with pre-come. He wants inside Luke so bad, remembering all his awful little fantasies from back when they still hated each other in school, how even then he’d wanted to pin Luke down, make Luke say his name and beg him for it, make Luke writhe under him. This is so much better than all of those, the reality of it, Luke’s face creased with want, Luke loving him, their best friends a part of it too. So much better. 

“I’ll go slow,” Michael promises, his heart too full to say much else, body too focused as he leans in, pushes at Luke’s hole until it lets him in, Luke moaning, his head falling back on the pillow, eyes slipped shut. He takes Luke’s slim hips in his hands and fills Luke up slowly, an easy slide until he’s all the way in, gasping at the feel of it, how hot Luke is inside, how tight. Luke opens his eyes, his lower lip trembling just the slightest bit, and reaches for Michael. 

The new angle makes Luke whimper when Michael bends him low, his cock buried deep, Luke’s legs high around his waist so he can get close enough to kiss Luke’s mouth. He keeps his thrusts short, easy, staying deep inside Luke and catching his mouth again and again, too overwhelmed for much more than brief panting kisses, letting Luke suck needily on his lower lip. The bed shakes beneath them, the slap of Ashton’s hips against Calum’s ass loud, both of them moaning next to them. They’ll get there pretty soon in Michael’s estimation, to the hard needy practiced fucking stage, but right now Michael needs to make some sweet love to one of his boyfriends, and he’s going to do it even if Ashton and Calum are in the mood to pound each other into puddles in the meantime. 

Of course, he still has needs, and his body wants him to go faster, harder, wants to snap his hips and make Luke really feel it, do it quick and rough until he comes in Luke’s ass. He pulls back from Luke’s greedy kisses, looks him in the eye and pulls back so he can thrust back in hard and see how Luke likes it. Luke does, judging by his little gasp and the way he grabs Michael’s ass to pull him deeper and whines, “Please,” one hand sneaking between them to touch himself. 

“Give it to him harder, Michael,” Ashton says, of course he does, because Ashton’s always available to editorialize. Michael scrunches his nose up at him, meaning to tell him where he can stick it (well), but he’s too caught by the sight of Ashton and Calum’s bodies tucked together, Ashton working him over with rough thrusts that make Calum quiver and groan. 

It’s what they all want, anyway, at least Calum would probably want it too if he had the capacity to care. So Michael braces himself, stays close enough that Luke can arch up to get more kisses if he wants, and gives Luke what he asked for, fucking him nice and hard. Each thrust forces little needy noises from Luke’s throat, his fist flying on his cock, stroking himself wet with the pre-come he’s dribbled down his fingers. He just lets Michael give it to him, his body rocked by Michael’s deep thrusts, digging his teeth into his lower lip, tugging his lip ring between his teeth as if he likes the pull and pain. He comes staring up into Michael’s eyes, his come splattering between them over his stomach and chest, hot streaks of it on Michael’s skin, too. 

Ashton swears, the bed squeaking louder as Luke settles under Michael, lookin hazily up at him as Michael keeps fucking him. He lifts a hand to his mouth and licks at a drop of his own come. Michael is so down for kinky little fuck Luke and the casual way he just does this shit like it’s no big deal. “Come in me, Michael,” Luke says, flicking his pink tongue out to lick up more, and yeah, so definitely down. Michael jams his cock in deep, Luke biting his lip and clenching obligingly down on Michael’s dick, and Michael practically comes on command like he’s some sort of Calum or something.

“I can’t believe I’m last,” Calum moans next to them. After Michael’s finished coming and made his way back down to Earth he manages to look at Calum stroking himself all huffily, Ashton’s fingers between his legs fingering him all wet with come. Ashton looks a bit sheepish. 

“I was first,” Luke says, looking up at Michael dreamily. “I win.” Michael benevolently doesn’t mention that coming first usually isn’t a point of pride in any kind of sex situation. Luke looks too blissed out, and he’s all warm and soft and cuddly when Michael drops down next to him, pulling him close. “You can fuck me if you want, Cal,” Luke says, looking over at Calum. He arches his body demonstratively, sticking his ass out to offer it up. 

“Sweet,” Calum says, ever the romantic. He kisses Ashton’s cheek like there’s no hard feelings and shifts over to tuck himself up to Luke’s back. With the way Luke’s draped over his side it’s easy for Michael to watch and even to help, reaching down to guide Luke’s leg up and spread him open better for Calum’s cock. “Cheers,” Calum says to Michael. He guides his cock into Luke’s ass and Luke winces a little, probably sore, but then sighs and settles. He’s really excellent at taking cock, Michael’s impressed. He wonders how much Luke could take in one night. He wonders how soon he’ll get to find out. 

Luke just clings to him, mouths at Michael’s chest almost absently as Calum fucks into him. It’s weirdly unsurprising, the contented way that he takes it. He’s always been up for a casual cuddle, loves to be laid upon, his body a pillow or a heat source and his heart happy for it. Michael supposes it makes just as much sense that he’d like it this way too, that he’d like being something nice for his boys to use. 

They’re all close together now, Luke draped over Michael, Calum fucking Luke, Ashton lying at Calum’s back, stroking over his hip and side. As Michael watches, Ashton’s hand slips lower, out of sight, and a moment later Calum’s moaning loudly, shoving into Luke hard enough to jostle all of them, Luke gasping and hiding his face in Michael’s chest, teeth scraping at his skin a little like he wants to bite down. 

Calum shudders and goes still, sighing and then nuzzling his cheek into Luke’s shoulder. He swears, and it seems loud in the room gone quiet except for their breathing. 

“That was cool,” Luke says belatedly, and they all burst into helpless giggles, Michael laughing loudly enough to unsettle Luke in his arms and make him roll back into the tangle of Calum and Ashton, who both tickle him to make him shriek. Michael just rolls into it, getting in a quick pet on any skin he can reach, touching all of them because he can, because they’re doing this. They did it, and it was good. It was awesome. 

-

It’s not always easy, but the whole thing goes more smoothly than Michael would have expected, four dudes in a band working out a relationship together. In the next city, after they’ve all fucked him, Luke suggests that they head back to Vegas to make it official, husband each other up properly. This mostly just makes Michael demand to know if they’ve knocked him up and if so he hopes it’s his kid because that’s the handsomest option, which leads to a thrusty tussle between him and Calum. It’s a nice thought, anyway, even if they’re already pretty official. Michael holds Luke’s hand and thinks about how nice it would look with a ring on it, several years in the future and after many more records. They could all get matching rings, they could buy a big house. They could get a couple of dogs and Ashton can damn well take allergy medication because Michael wants a cat, like the fattest, fluffiest possible kitten for him to love forever. But that’s all future stuff. 

They can’t always get a California king on the road, and it’s a little harder to work things out when they’re back at home, but for the most part they figure it out. They have their cuddle order in bed. They have each other. And Michael doesn’t have to go looking for Luke, because he’s always right there.

**Author's Note:**

> Here are some of the canon things referenced in this story: [the Twitcam kiss](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3mYMxvqRpJ0), [the Vegas Keek](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GvXcfO5UWv8), [Michael and Luke sharing a bed in London](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I6kF4KQMOKI). 
> 
> If you'd like to share this story on Tumblr, please [reblog this link](http://cyclogenesis.tumblr.com/post/112777279251/take-my-hand-5sos-ot4-rated-explicit-19-890). :D I welcome comments and my [askbox](http://cyclogenesis.tumblr.com/ask) is always open for fic talk or chit-chat! Thank you for reading!


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